


My Ramblin' Gamblin' Man | Nick & Ellis Ficlets

by Ohlookapan



Category: Left 4 Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, Humor, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Romance, Sad Ending, Tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26556655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohlookapan/pseuds/Ohlookapan
Summary: They say that every girl's crazy for a sharp-dressed man. Whoever 'They' was clearly never expected Nick and Ellis to come through and break that mold, but here they are.Some little fics/one-shots of your favorite idiots because it's 2020 and I don't know what self control is anymore. :)Suggestions welcome! Thanks for stopping by!
Relationships: Ellis/Nick (Left 4 Dead)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	1. Kickback

Seventy-five dollars. On a good day. That’s how much Ellis would guesstimate Nick’s suit really cost.

He was a born liar, so it was more of a game at this point for the young southern man to guess which of his declarations were true and which were just a hair beyond fiction. Hey. it’s the apocalypse. Gotta entertain yourself somehow.

Sitting on the back of their newly scavenged and repaired truck (thanks to Ellis. As much as he was teased and belittled, he really came in handy at times), the country-boy stared out at the sunset over the murky river. As much as he could deny it, some kind of peace came with the world ending. He only had one major worry now, not millions every day.

Though when he looked down at the baseball bat in his hands, he remembered his most recent second worry.

“Ellis!” a voice resonated, snapping him out of his little mental spiral. Once he turned, he managed to put the gruff voice to a face that was even more so.

“Nick? Everythin’ alright?” Ellis sat up a bit stiffer, looking at him with a worried cerulean eye. That was, before an airy chuckle eased him into a smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. Don’t worry. Just...uh, didn’t want to spook you. Can I sit?”

Something was off, the hick thought. Nick never seemed this gentle. Ever. If given the opportunity to scare his younger foil, he would’ve taken it with glee and gotten creative. Ellis wouldn’t probe immediately though, and gestured to the empty spot next to him. Glancing at him, he furrowed his brow. “D’ya need something...or...?”

“Kinda, but I can’t enjoy the sunset either? Could be the last one I see.” The northerner mused, a hint of a smile still curved on his face. Said comment earned a gentle punch to his shoulder.

“C’mon man, y’know I hate when y’all say shit like that. Scares me.”

With a laugh, Nick moved on. “Okay, okay. Actually came out here to talk to you about that bat.”

Ellis’ brows creased, looking perplexed. “Somethin’ wrong with it?”

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong with it, Ellis. It’s a fine bat, but...it’s all you use. In the time we’ve been across Savannah, I’ve never seen you shoot a gun. Or even one holstered on you for that matter. You’re the only one of us that doesn’t.”

The blue-eyed boy froze. It was like Nick through a dart at a board with all of Ellis’ insecurities on it. And he struck a bullseye. He really did have a way with aim didn’t he? Ellis’s eyes slowly did their scan down to rest at the grown, looking nervous and embarrassed.

As the other looked at him and studied him, the dots began to connect. His smile grew a little, and his voice was much more calm and soft.

“You don’t know how to shoot, do you? Or...Is it that you’re scared to shoot?”

“Well...I ain’t scared to shoot....” The southerner protested. “My mama just always told me how bad guns were and that she never wanted me shooting one.”

Nick nodded and made a silent ‘O’ with his mouth. “Do you think she had the zombie apocalypse in mind when she said that?”

“...Well, no...I’as seven at the time.”

With a smirk, the riverboat gambler patted him on the back. “Exactly. Come on, fireball. Got something set up just for you.”

Walking a little ways from the safe room, the ‘setup’ consisted of some bottles and folded up cardboard boxes (each of which held drawings of zombies with a few...creative liberties, thanks to Nick) standing on crates. A distance away, was an array of guns--ranging from small pistols, to huge snipers. A few silencers even seemed to be laying around, just to make sure no unwanted attention was drawn.

With a surprised look on his face, Ellis slowly stepped towards the firearms. “...Y’did all this fer’ me?”

Nick scratched the back of his head, flustered. “It’s nothing. Gotta learn sometime. Would’ve figured a backwoods hick like you learned as soon as you came out of the womb.”

Not hearing him, the ‘backwoods hick’ grabbed the biggest gun first, only to be quickly stopped.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Take it easy. We gotta start slow. Can’t have too much kickback on your first shot.”

Setting the gun down, the northerner grabbed a P220 pistol and held it up to him. Ellis though, seemed to look hesitant. What Nick said earlier about the man being scared? It may not have been far off. I guess you could call it another bullseye.

To help coax him along, the gambler gave him an easing smile. “Come on, El. It won’t hurt you. As long as you aren’t stupid.” he chuckled. After a second, he spoke up again. “Here.”

Getting situated, the dark haired man walked to stand behind the curly-haired one. He handed him the gun. “You try first. Lemme see what I’m working with.” Nick gibed, watching Ellis’s form.

Currently though, the country-boy was still trying to get over the ex-con calling him ‘El.’ Taking the handgun, Ellis started to shake and get tense, but he pushed through it the best he could. Taking a stance, he held the gun up and cocked his head to look down its reticle. When he think he had a decent shot lined up, he forced his eyes closed and pulled the trigger. Squeaking a bit from the sound and bit of kick, Ellis frowned when he saw the bullet fly past his target and into a tree.

Nick quietly snickered before stepping closer, though his demeanor didn’t have a mocking flare to it.. “Glad we didn’t start with moving targets. Lemme help you, kiddo. You ever use a camera?”

A little confused, El nodded. “Yeh. Think most e’ryone has.”

“Good. Makes my job easier.”

The gambling man walked up close behind the backwoods man. He put his hands gently on his shoulders once he saw a finger off the trigger. “Relax. That’s the first thing.”

Ellis jolted, but almost immediately got used to the feeling of such strong hands resting so gently on him. It almost felt like dumbbells being suspended from a feather. He took a breath in, held it, then exhaled.

“Good. You’re gonna do that again later. Arms up like you’re going to shoot.”

Once the southerner was in position, Nick reached his arms around to help him adjust. Moving just as gently and slowly as before, his calloused hands worked to arc one of El’s arms down ever so slightly and tilt the boy’s head to look directly forward. As he did, Ellis’ breath hitched a little (partially from how cold the metal from the elder’s rings were, but also from just how gentle such a brusque individual like Nick was being).

Nick watched from over El’s shoulder, his hands moving up to relax the boy’s own against the gun. His breath was slow and paced against Ellis’ ear, occasionally taking in the familiar scent of dirt and motor oil. “Think of it like a camera. But...Your targets aren’t anything you’d wanna save. Hang maybe, but not save. Point and shoot, okay?” The man’s voice never raised above a whisper, staying relaxed and docile as he spoke to and instructed the hillbilly.

Everything around Ellis went quiet, and all he could hear was Nick’s voice and breathing. Such an ambiance soothed him way more than he liked to admit, and the man’s hold around him wasn’t exactly helping.

“Breathe in, El.”

And so he did.

“Hold it. Look at the target in front of you. Not the gun.”

He obeyed Nick’s every word, internally shivering at the elder’s low and gravelly voice.

“Good, now breathe out and shoot..”

 _Bullseye_. The boy only winced a little at the aftershock, but Nick was there to halt him. Once he looked at where the bullet hit, grins grew on each of their faces.

“Nice shot, Ace.” Nick’s hands slowly moved away (much to the younger boy’s dismay. And a lot of it too. Though he’d never say it, that was the safest he’d ever felt. And he had a weapon in hand) from him, but he remained close behind him. “Your turn without me. Just like I showed you.”

Licking his bottom lip in shaky determination, Ellis held himself in place. At the moment, he felt the most scared about messing up and making a fool of himself. For once, he cared about not being a total reckless idiot. He cared about impressing someone. He cared about impressing Nick.

He relaxed, closing his eyes to take a breath. When his crystal blue eyes opened, he focused on the target as he inhaled and held the breath. Keeping as still as he could, El slowly let out the pent up air and pulled the weapon’s trigger.

_Another bullseye._

The boy’s grin only grew as Nick crossed his arms behind him. “Goddamn. Keep it up and we’re gonna have to call you Andy Oakley.”

The praise made El want to shoot and miss, just so he could feel those faintly built arms around him again. He was thinking hard about it, and eventually did just that. Nick only laughed and once again, his voice never trailed above a whisper. If possible, it only got huskier.

“Don’t tempt me, El.”

Ellis froze as the gun was pulled away.

Never more in his life had the boy wanted to check and see if the fabric on the man’s suit was really worthy of ten grand. However, the care--as small as it was--would be thrown out the window once he got his hands on the buttons of the shirt.

Nick’s alarm the next morning was the abrupt sound of gunfire. He jolted, nearly falling off the cot. He grabbed his gun and ran out of the safe room to the source of the noise. Rochelle and Coach seemed to have either not heard the bullets, or were out on a scavenge for the day.

It was Ellis. He was holding the pistol in his hand, firing away at the cardboard cutouts. It seemed that all the glass bottles had been broken, which honestly surprised the northerner. He’d never expected anyone to learn and grow so good so fast. Let alone a young southern boy. He stayed a safe distance away, watching with an impressed little smirk and crossed arms.

The man would never admit anything to anyone either, but he had a nice view. Ellis looked to be built by angels. His arms were toned and fit with several scars decorating them, his torso was buff and slim, his soft, bouncy curls played peekaboo from under his cap and shone in the sunlight, and his rear...Nick treated it like the sun, not staring at it for too long.

As the boy was reloading, Nick stepped a little closer. “Somebody’s been busy. You shot all those bottles down?”

A grin rose on the hick’s face as soon as he heard the gambler’s voice. “Sure did. Just like you showed me. You were right, Nick. S’pretty easy to shoot.”

Nick laughed haughtily. “Remind me never to piss you off, then. C’n I try?”

El nodded, handing him the gun. “Bet you can’t hit that back target. S’the only one I ain’t been able to hit.”

With another laugh, the elder aimed his gun. “And what’ll you give me if I do it?”

“Whatever you want.” the hick said wearily. Though to be fair, he really didn’t believe he could do it. He thought no one could.

Nick’s grin grew. “I wouldn’t go making bets like that, overalls. Specially’ when you don’t know how skilled your opponent really is.” he warned, sounding like the sentences came from experience. Which they did. “Last chance to change your mind.”

That only intimidated the southern boy more, and he smiled at him. “I like my chances. Anything you want, gamblin’ man.”

Without saying another word, Nicholas fired three shots. All of which hit the target between its drawn-on eyes.

_Bullseyes._

Nick’s eyes darkened, and a triumphant smile curved up on his lips as he turned to Ellis. “You were saying, El?”

The boy’s mouth fell agape before his brows furrowed. “Aw, come on man! Thas’ not fair!”

“Bullshit, it isn’t. I warned you. Now come on, pay up.”

With a groan, the hillbilly spoke up again. “What do you even want anyway?”

That made Nick go quiet, thinking long and hard to himself. He wanted to pick his words carefully, but all he could think of were two. A kiss. He knew the boy would probably cave in on himself if he said that (be it in a good way or a bad one), so he chose the next best thing.

“How about a hug?”

El’s face contorted in about the same way it would’ve if Nick had picked the former option. “What? A hug? Nick, have you been drinkin’ again? What’s gotten into you?”

The older man’s face remained calm, and he kept his smile. “If I were, I wouldn’t have left the cot I was on. But no, I’m serious. That’s what I want. A hug. None of that frat-shit either. No patting the back. I want a normal hug.”

“...That’s it?” The southern hick raised an eyebrow. “S’all you want?”

“Mhm. That’s it.”

“Alright. Well, here.” Awkwardly, the boy held out his arms.

Smiling, the northern gambler set the weapon down and gently pulled the other into his arms with eyes falling to a close. His hands rested on Ellis’ back while his head fell onto the boy’s shoulder. Nick’s light stubble brushed up against El’s neck.

“Hey Ellis,” the man’s voice was husky and low, only wanting the other boy to hear. “you know all that shit I was saying before?”

Ellis nodded against him as he settled into the embrace. His head rested against him as his eyes too fell shut. He hugged Nick a little tighter, not feeling shy anymore.

“You know I was jus’ jokin’ right?”

The younger man looked up into his green eyes with his baby blue ones. “You were? You didn’t mean none of it?”

The gambler cupped the hick’s cheek and brushed across a healing scar with his calloused thumb. “Not a word. I really like you, El. More than you think I do.”

That was it. Ellis wouldn’t wait anymore. He was ready to try his luck again. The right way.

Leaning up, the younger boy connected their lips. As he did, he awaited a push back; one that followed through with yelling and even more painful silence.

But it never came. Instead, Nick’s other (just as rugged and calloused) hand rested itself on El’s other cheek. The chain of events led Ellis’ hold to grow firmer as the kiss deepened. Their tongues soon started to wrestle; but before too long, they had to pull away with the need to breathe. Nick wouldn't dare pull away from the embrace or from looking into the hick’s gentle blue ones. “Now that was a gamble worth takin’...”

A chuckle bubbled out of the country-boy as he buried his head into the crook of Nick’s neck. “Was feelin’ pretty lucky on that one.”

“You still feelin’ that way? You wanna try your luck a little more…?”

The boy simply shut him up with another kiss, wordlessly accepting the bet as they made their way to the safe room and shut the door behind them.

Oh, and about Nick’s suit? Once you feel it up a little, you start to get the impression of how expensive it was.

Don’t take it from just anyone either. Take it all from Ellis.


	2. Step (and stay) with Me, Darling

“Coach, I swear to God. If you do not close that goddamn door, I will bury you alive.”

“Yeah, yeah. Give me a damn minute, son.”

After silence (except for the occasional infected screech or worn-out pant) seemed to finally bless their presence, Coach and Ellis worked to move a shelf and a few chairs over the door while the other half of their team scoped the place out. When Nick made it to the back room, where some glass shelves held glass bottles of various liquids, it finally clicked where he was. 

He saw a vodka bottle.

He saw a box of cigars tucked away with a little matchbook.

He saw a makeshift gambler’s den.

For once in the months he’s been on the road, Nicolas had finally reached a place that was close enough to his tastes for him to call home. Or at least a place that he cared to call home anyway.

“Thank fuck…” the man sighed, tugging the cigar box out of hiding and tucking it under his arm. He grabbed the liquor bottle he was eyeing before and took a seat at the table, watching the liquid dance in its bottle.. “I guess people really do keep important things safe when shit hits the fan after all.” 

Rochelle rolled her eyes, though couldn’t exactly ignore the fact that Nick would practically become a parakeet with a blanket over it once he got all of his favorite things worked into his system. She knew that once the northerner was out of it, the others would be shielded from his bullshit for a while. Rochelle would be lying entirely if she said that didn’t make her even a little bit excited, the idea of some real peace and quiet. 

“Alright, Nick. You play with your new toys. I’ll be out at the bar.”

The only thing to leave him was a half-hearted grunt as he lit the first cigar.

When it came to sleep, Ellis really was a child, y’know that? To be fair, it was the only thing he was picky about, but it didn’t change the fact that he was the pickiest sleeper on the planet at this point. 

As wired as could be, the boy sat at the bar and spun a rifle bullet between his fingers. He sighed a little, adding to what little ambiance the bar seemed to cradle (most of which seemed to come from the eldest survivor's recklessly-abandoned snores. On the bright side, maybe they could get lucky and snoring could pass for a Hunter’s growl these days. Maybe). 

The faint tap of a bottle being set on the bar counter snapped the hick out of his daze and got his attention. 

_Oh hey, the sonuvabitch can walk. Means he ain’t entirely shitfaced._

When he saw the name on the bottle, he couldn’t be bothered to hold back a little chuckle. “Interesting choice there, Nick.”

As he sat down at the counter, Nick gave him a small smirk. “Don’t like Fireball, fireball?”

A giggle bubbled out of Ellis, reaching over to grab some glasses. “Never said that. Just said it was interesting. S’also interesting that you aren’t tanked on the floor back there right now.”

An eyebrow of the former-felon’s rose like a curtain. “You don’t think I can hold my liquor, overalls? You must’ve forgotten how I grew up. Either that or the swamp water went to your brain.” a semi-cheeky smile creeped up on his face as he thought of an idea. “Up for a little game?”

Pouring some of the drink in the glasses, the hick bit back “Ain’t you the one who always calls me a child? What d’you think?”

As much as Nick always maintained his guard, nothing could’ve prepared him for the little quips he had coming his way. From a currently sober man, no less. “Alright, alright. Don’t get your boxers in a wad. Just pick a game.”

El was silent as he spun the glass around, watching the liquid join it for the ride. “Two truths and a lie would be interesting, if I knew you wouldn’t just lie about everything.”

The sudden jab seemed to affect Nick like the crack of a whip. “Jesus. Been holding onto that one? C’mon, just humor me. Hell, you can lie too. Who needs rules anymore?” 

The younger glanced at him, his interest peaked in his sudden anarchist mindset. “Could just flip the rules, Nick. Tell two lies and then a truth. You get it wrong, you drink. That make you feel more comfortable?”

“Just start the damn game so I can drink.”

_Funny that the only thing not impeded by the gambler’s sobriety is his will to be a dick. It always seems to be working just fine._

The joke wasn’t even that funny, the two honestly were just finally tanked enough to not care. The liquor seemed to vanish from the bottle right before their eyes, but it seemed like they didn’t mind. 

“Okay, okay,” Nick broke through his laughing fit, trying to catch some semblance of a breath. “Fucking take your turn already so I don’t die of a stroke.”

Ellis had a grip on his stomach as he too tried to relax from their laughing high. His hat had tumbled off his head a while ago, showing off the disheveled excuse for curls that rested on his head. “Okay, okay...damn that one had me. Let’s see…”

The boy's eyebrows knitted as he tried to put together his hand--so to speak. Quite honestly, he had his truth before he had his lies. Thinking about it though made his face heat up with a bit of embarrassment. 

Fixating on his fluster, Nick chuckled. “This should be good.” 

Not even hearing the conman, the hick started raffling off his choices.

“I...taught m’self how to repair cars, I had my first kiss at fifteen, and...I’ve...I’ve never learned how to dance.”

Silence followed for quite a while, until the other spoke up. “Hell of a deck there. Make it any harder I’d probably drink anyway. Just hope your poker face is as good as your drunk jokes, overalls.”

“Wouldn’t need to read my face if you’d listened to me before.” El responded, such a retort having more venom than the other ones. Seems like Nick was getting to him somehow.

Nick’s lips pursed, beginning to mull over his choices in a similar fashion of Ellis wigging the rifle bullet between his fingers. “First kiss has to be a lie. You’d be bragging about it or some shit like that. And, let’s see...You grew up in Georgia. Every kid with a mama learned how to dance. That’s a lie. First one’s the truth. Nice try, hot-shot. Almost got me.”

Silence blanketed over them again, and a little smirk drew across Ellis’s face. “I did, huh? So let me ask you this…” He took the bottle in his hand, pouring the rest of the contents in Nick’s glass. “Why am I making you finish off the booze?”

Nick’s eyes widened as his head whipped over to look at him. He’d never expected to be so blindsided and upper handed like that. “The fuck? Overalls, you’re bullshitting. Was it the kiss? You aren’t that humble, don’t lie to me.”

“...Try again, slick.”

If the gambler’s eyes could get wider, they absolutely would have. However, something seemed to get to him, and his features softened a little. “Ellis...You’re kidding. You never learned?”

The southerner’s arms crossed as he shook his head. “Never thought I was gonna get married or last long enough with anyone to need to learn. So I didn’t.”

Let’s get one thing straight, Nick was a pretty cold and walled-up individual. He always saw through other people’s shit before anyone could think to repay the favor. He was never a sympathetic or empathetic person (to the point where he barely knew the difference), and not many things got to him. 

Now, whether it was the alcohol, or how sleep deprived he was, he didn’t know; but Ellis’ words burned like the strongest acid. They rendered him totally speechless. 

On some kind of sudden impulse, the elder got up and started to walk towards the back. Presuming he needed more liquor, El stayed. When he heard a whisper though, his head whipped back in that direction.

“Fireball, you coming? Kinda can’t do this without you.”

The southerner’s brows furrowed together, and he warily followed after. “Nick, what’s goin’ on? What’re you doing?”

A hand was held out. “Dancing. Can’t believe you never learned, Ace. No better time than now, right?” Nick’s eyes were soft and inviting. It really could've just been the alcohol, but this was a hell of an effect it was having on him. “Join me?”

If he didn’t feel his cheeks go hot before, they were sweltering now. Ellis looked up at Nick with sheepish eyes, unsure of how this would resolve once they sobered up. Until then, the Georgia boy wasn’t about to say no. He slowly took his hand. 

He was pulled close, a hand on his hip while the other was connected to Nick’s other hand. “Put your other hand on my shoulder, overalls. Trust me.” his voice was oddly low, almost like the gambler didn’t want anyone to get in on this moment. Not that Ellis was complaining, he just honestly had no idea where to look. That was, until he felt his chin be lightly tipped up to see a faint smile. “My eyes are up here, Ace.”

When the two finally started to move, the Georgian started to panic and worry that his extra left foot would kick in. He looked up at Nick almost instinctively, like a crutch for his nerves. Meeting his eyes, the elder lightly chuckled and kept the smile on his face. “Why do you think I’m leading? I gotcha. Won’t let you fall.”

Something about that last sentence got to El. The words fell from Nick’s calloused lips with the purity of honey, but maintained a stinging firmness. His eyes never moved from the con-artist’s pale emerald gaze, and his grip on his hand loosened a little. He hadn’t realized it, but he slowly started to keep up with the man’s pace on his own. 

“Fast learner.” Nick mumbled, his smile transparent and sincere. “ _Dancing With The Stars_ would be so jealous.”

Little bits of a laugh trickled out of Ellis’ mouth as he smiled up at the black-haired gambler. “Flattering’s a good look on you, suit.”

Pale green eyes were rolled. “Don’t get too used to it, fireball. Just so happens you’re not as shitty a dancer as I expected.”

“Compliments could use a little work, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe I owe you for teaching me to dance.” 

Nick would’ve retorted, but something about the southerner’s voice seemed to stop his mouth in its tracks. He let his eyes trace the lines of his face, noticing every little crease and laugh line that seemed to...bless him. If these lines illustrated how happy and free Ellis lived his life--no matter the circumstances--he couldn’t see any reason to hate them. The more he looked at them and how they curved around his eyes, they started to seem more like medals. In times like this, such a line or wrinkle seemed to be a middle finger to each horsemen of the apocalypse--proving further that recklessness and freedom seemed to be the strongest in the ring.

When their eyes seemed to meet for the umpteenth time, an idea ticked in the felon’s mind. “Hey. You...You wanna try something they do in the movies?”

A shy blush seemed to blossomed on El’s face once again. “Um...Sure…”

“Arms around my neck then, Ace. Hang on.”

Ellis’ eyes conveyed uncertainty, but not enough to recoil. His arms snaked around the gambler’s neck, keeping their eyes locked. Before he could say anything, he felt a hand on his back and another on his neck. After a second, Ellis felt himself lean towards the ground with a nervous squeak. 

Nick laughed lowly, his eyes trained on the Georgian’s. He noticed his baby blues go from scared to relaxed, not even daring to pry away from the northerner’s. He felt safe getting lost in them, and like nothing outside of them existed. 

And then Nick suddenly leaned in. He connected Ellis’ surprisingly soft and supple lips with his own dry, thin ones. Their grips loosened a bit in almost perfect sync. As they kissed, Ellis started to think about something.

Nick was a felon. A grifter--a con artist. A liar. The man was a damn criminal, but here he was: kissing him and teaching him how to dance. The young man never thought the phrase ‘dancing’s not a crime’ in such a literal context, but he’d be damned if someone would change his mind on that. 

As Nick pulled away from the kiss and pulled El up, he felt arms wrap tightly around him and a head bury itself in his chest. A smile revived itself on his face, and his arms reclaimed their places around the southern boy. Quietly, only so Ellis could hear, he repeated something to him. 

_“I won’t let you fall, fireball.”_


	3. Be My Huckleberry (won't you)?

It was something Ellis made sure he’d never forget. If he could, he would’ve stuck a Post-It note to his forehead with the entire story Nick told him (that is, if he could write that small). Hell, if they were still at the tattoo parlor, he probably would’ve gotten a tattoo of the entire tale on his stomach. Anything to never forget something as pure and untainted as that story. As the group walked down a wooded trail, the hick couldn’t help but let the story replay over and over in his head. 

_ “You’re shitting me right, suit? None of those are true. Last I checked, that ain’t how you play the game.” _

_ A chuckle left the conman’s lips. “Nope, I’m doin’ it right. One’s the truth, two are lies. Just good at bluffing...and lying.”  _

_ With a bit of a frustrated groan, Ellis turned to focus on Nick’s face. “Alright. Repeat em’ again?” _

_ With a light chuckle coming out again, the gambler stared into Ellis’ eyes, beginning to say the choices again. “My middle name is Levi, I lost my virginity when I was sixteen, and I had a dream of being a cowboy when I was a kid.” _

_ Despite hearing the options restated, the sheer surprise of Nick’s answers caused the baby blue in El’s eyes to well up to the size of a lake. He’d expected some nitty-gritty, grotesquely described answers that would cause him to taste the metallic punch of blood simply just from hearing them. But...That wasn’t what he got at all. If he’d never met the man, he’d swear that he was just a juvenile delinquent still living in his shadow (at the very most). _

_ The Georgia boy hadn’t realized how long he’d spaced out for, slowly coming out of it as Nick was waving in his face. “Kid? Hey, anybody in there? Hello--?” _

_ “Huh…? Oh, my bad, Nick. M’sorry. Kinda zoned out there for a second. Alright, alright. Let’s see, I can do this…” He looked away, sighing a bit as he looked down at the counter to focus. He seemed to be quiet for a while, and his eyebrows were furrowed with determination.  _

_ “Overalls, it’s just a game. Just pick an answer. Worst you gotta do is drink.” Nick broke the silence with a gruff snicker. “That isn’t even a punishment, man. Come on, take a guess. S’getting late.”  _

_ “I know, I know. I just wanna get it right, s’all. Wanna show you I listen to ya and I care.” _

_ With something that couldn’t exactly be discerned as a scoff or chuckle, Nick rolled his eyes. “That’s real nice of you, but it really doesn’t matter. It’s just a silly drinking game. It’s just a stupid question we’ll forget about in the morning. Don’t dwell on it so much, fireball, and make your choice.” _

_ A frown crossed the boy’s face. He cared about Nick. He cared about each of the people in his entourage. He liked to see them happy, and he would give anything to keep them all that way (especially in times like these). As a kid, Ellis remembered his mother telling him that if he really wanted to show he cared about someone, remember little details about them or things they said and use them in the future in special, memorable ways. He lived by that too, making it a point to memorize birthdays, anniversaries, special occasions, and little details like the wants and needs of everyone he met and befriended. When the time proved itself right, he sprung little gifts and services on them that the person receiving them wouldn’t even think to get themselves. It was a quality that really added to both his infectious likability and positivity.  _

_ After about another minute of silence, Ellis finally spoke up. “Well the cowboy thing is just silly. It don’t sound like you at all. Can’t see you with a cowboy hat on up on a horse even if it was right in front o’me. And...You were born in seventy-four, right? Don’t think Levi was a real popular name back then. I don’t think it was even a name at all, right? So I guess that leaves the second one. The one about your virginity. That one’s the truth.” The younger boy looked up at the gambler, eyes firm with confirmation that he’d made the right call.  _

_ Upon a cursory glance, you wouldn’t notice it. However if you looked at him for a while, something about Nick’s eyes conveyed a kind of hurt. Like he was a bit upset about something that was said, or like he remembered another bad memory. Lord knows he has enough of those to last a little while. Said look seemed to quickly be pushed back when he gave Ellis a raised eyebrow. “You sure, kid? Not saying you’re right or wrong, but you’re welcome to change your answer.”  _

_ “I’m about as sure as I can be until you tell me, Nick. So let’s hear it.” _

_ A bottle of liquor was slid in the hick’s direction, causing his mouth to fall agape. “You son of a--” _

_ “Drink up, fireball. Nice try though, good to know you think that highly of me that I’d lose it that early. I appreciate that.” A shit-eating grin slit itself across Nick’s face, his sea-foam green eyes sparkling with victorious mischief.  _

_ “What? What the hell, Nick?” Ellis exclaimed, astonished as he tossed back another drink. “You really didn’t? Not at sixteen? Which one was it then? Your middle name really Levi?” _

_ “Should’ve made it a rule where if you guess again and get it wrong, you take another shot Hell, even two shots.” _

_ Ellis’ eyes were the size of oceans now. His mouth only closed slightly, his shock and awe keeping it pried open. “Nick...You...You’ve gotta be fucking with me. You did not wanna be a cowboy when you were bite-sized.”  _

_ The gambler’s grin softened a bit, and that hurt twinge in his eyes seemed to make a return. When the Georgian noticed again, he connected the dots. He realized how concrete the truth was, and how sentimental it was to the person who said it. The more he looked at Nick, Ellis started to really imagine it: The conman dawning a fringe-infested outfit with boots, a revolver at the hip, and a cowboy hat as he rode a horse that looked just as strong and ruthless as he was. He imagined Nick stepping into saloons and laying down the law with his expertly-trained skills in the quick-draw. The more he thought about it, the wider Ellis’ smile grew. Granted, he really couldn’t imagine Nick as a child, but El didn’t seem to mind.  _

_ He didn’t realize he’d zoned out again, and when he came to, Nick was gone. He snuck off to the back room and passed out.  _

_ ‘If you want to be a cowboy, big guy,’ the young man thought to himself, cleaning up the glasses and finding a place to crash. ‘I aim to let you.’ _

“Hey, overalls? You in there? Hayseed! Hello? Ellis!” 

Ellis snapped to attention, gripping his newly found axe in his hands. “Huh? What’s goin’ on? Sorry, was kinda out of it for a second.” 

“Yeah, Ro and Coach already went ahead and left me to babysit you until you came out of your little...whatever it was. Come on, there’s a stable up here we’re checking out. Might have weapons.” 

Ellis lit up almost immediately. “Stable? Like, with horses and such?”

“Uh, yeah? Dunno if the horses are still there, but that’s the kind.” 

Before Nick could blink again, the Georgia boy bolted ahead of him with the energy to put Usain Bolt to shame. “Jesus--Ellis! Slow down for Christ’s sake!” 

Nick was already out of earshot as the hick caught up to the other two survivors, who were staring at some wooden fences. Inside them--if anyone could believe it--were horses. Four to be exact. 

Rochelle stared at them in something of ecstatic awe. “We heard that the virus spread through mammals, so it’s a wonder these guys are still standing. Let alone not coming after us.”

“Maybe they were hidin’, somebody before us let em’ out.” Coach suggested, resting against the fence to soothe his aching knee. “Don’t know how a horse could be so quiet in a panic like that though, but good on em’.”

Ellis almost couldn’t speak, his excitement akin to that of a five year old seeing a Christmas tree littered with presents. The myriad of images from before began to stockpile themselves in his head, causing him to grow even more giddy. Standing before him, beyond that fence, was his opportunity to show the gambling man how much he cared. “We should ride em’!” 

Panting a he caught up to the group, Nick’s eyes widened a little when he saw the equine. “Oh hell.” 

Spinning around to catch sight of Nick, Ellis grinned even wider. “Come on! It’ll be fun! And we can cover more ground that way.” 

Coach’s brow furrowed a little. “Boy’s got a fair point, but I don’t think any of us know how to ride a horse. Last thing we need is someone gettin’ tossed off and breakin’ somethin’.” 

A frown started to glaze over the boy’s face as he turned to look at the horses. “They looked tamed an’ all. If they stayed quiet for this long, I don’t see how a few of us could piss em’ off.” 

“Ellis has a point there, and I don’t think I can walk much farther. We should take them.” Rochelle piped up, the southerner’s grin slowly making a return. 

“Yeah, yeah. Alright. Everybody pick one. Ellis, you’re gonna have to help us.” Coach gave in, walking around to unlatch the fence gate. 

“Nick, check it out!” El whispered to him as they walked. “We find you a cowboy hat, and you’ll be all fixed up.”

The northerner’s eyes widened a little, and he looked over at him. “What? You--You remembered? How? Why?”

Ellis seemed undeterred by the man’s shock, his smile going strong. “Well it’s important to ya, ain’t it? So why wouldn’t I remember it? Told you I cared about ya, Nick. Wasn’t lyin’.” he told him before skipping ahead. 

Noticing that one of the horses was missing a saddle, El walked to the stables to look around. After poking around and finding some weapons, he saw it. 

Hanging off a post, was a black cowboy hat with some silver rope around it that tied in a tassel around the front. It really was like fate, wasn't it? In the midst of all this hell and horror, there was finally one good thing for the group (especially Ellis and Nick) to take solace in. 

“Gotta enjoy the little things.” the Georgian murmured, walking up and swiping the hat off the post. As he held the hide in his hands, he could imagine it blending in with Nick’s nearly-black hair and rugged demeanor. Such a thought made El grin, and even blush just a hair. He grabbed an idle saddle and headed for the horses, grin never even bearing the thought of departure. 

“Y’all can get on em’, just be gentle. I gotta put Nick’s saddle on.” he instructed, keeping an eye on Rochelle and Coach as they mounted the horses. 

Coming behind Nicolas, Ellis tossed the hat on his head with a giggle. “Looks like some dreams can come true, huh partner?” he teased a bit as he adjusted the saddle on the equine. 

Nick jolted just a bit, a bit of heat rising to his face as he reached up to pull the hat off his head. However, he didn’t really get that far and just resorted to touching it.. “Really shouldn’t have told you that, overalls.”

“Why? Cause you don’t want people to see you enjoy one little thing? To have people see you enjoying yourself for once while the world’s goin’ to shit?”

That silenced the conman, deep down knowing that Ellis was right. Out of everyone in their group, he seemed to be the most disgruntled and displeased with everything (and everyone). He seemed to be the most upset with how the world was covered in hellfire and pestilence, despite always thinking of it as such. Truth be told, Nick really wasn’t as filled with discontent as he let on. He seemed to have cut his losses pretty quickly once the apocalypse started, and made due with what he had. Now that he had these three by his side, he actually did feel a little better about his survival odds. Not only that, but they quickly became the only people on the planet he’s ever truly trusted. As much as he hated to admit (and probably never would end up doing so, much to his teammates’ chagrin), he found family within them. He trusted them. He cared about them.

Instead of simply agreeing with the country-boy, Nick asked him, “Why’re you doing this, El? Why’re you so dead-set on making this cowboy thing come true for me?”

The younger man turned around and looked at him. “Because I care, Nick. I know the world’s shit. I know as much as the next guy. We gotta make due with what we have, no matter what’s left. Gotta enjoy the little things. And if this is a ‘little thing’ to you, it’s a big thing to me. I wanna make it happen. We’ve all had our time to be happy, this is yours.” He cracked a soft smile. “Besides, you taught me to dance. I think I owe you.”

Nick silently chuckled, creased eyes hiding under the brim of his hat. “Touché, fireball.” 

Ellis held out his hand, helping Nick up on the horse. “Hold on to the reigns now, don’t want ya fallin’.” His voice was gentle, almost like Nick’s was when he was close to him. “When y’wanna stop, pull up on em’.” 

The former felon nodded, doing as he instructed for practice. When pulled, the horse came to a quick stop. 

“Good. Lightly whip on the reigns, she’ll start movin’ again.”

Nick did as told, and the horse moved at a slow pace. “Not as bad as I thought it would be. Kinda nice actually.”

Ellis lit up, feeling proud for putting his mind to work like this. “Mhm. You’re a real gunslinger now. Got the gun and the hat. You’re all set, hot-shot.”

A smirk and blush decorated Nick’s face. “I usually call you that.”

“I know. Figured I could use it too. ‘Specially now that you’re as badass as they get.”

The older man laughed. “Damn, Ace. Didn’t expect this to draw such a response out of you. You never compliment me this much.”

El raised a brow. “I can stop, y’know. Hate for your ego to inflate anymore and pop.”

“That sounds more like it.” Nick chuckled. He went quiet for a bit, and eventually stifled a small “Thank you.”

Ellis turned to look at him, looking like he’d been shot. He’d never heard the man show gratitude like that before, let alone any kind of manners. “Wh--What? For what?”

“Doing this. You really didn’t have to. Nobody’s really ever remembered something like that and actually put it to use before. So it was kinda...sweet of you. Don’t tell anyone I said that.” He quickly finished. 

The hick smiled a bit brighter, putting both the sun and his yellow T-shirt to shame. “Aw, it ain’t nothin’. I don’t mind doin’ nice stuff like this for people. You’re a good guy, Nick. You deserve shit like this from time to time.”

There was silence between them for a while, but it was a welcomed one. 

“Now, uh…” the Georgian finally chimed in. “Hate to break it to you, but this won’t exactly be fun after a while. Your ass probably will hurt in a bit, so sorry about that.”

Coolly, almost like a retort, Nick quipped back. “It’s fine. I bet you’ll rub it for me later, won’t you, overalls?”

Whether it was a bug, air, or his dignity, Ellis was choking on something. Nick may have to teach him something else: How to breathe again.


	4. The Doctor is in

To say he’s done something like this before would be hitting the ball a little ways out of bounds (no matter what he tells you or anyone else). Granted, Nick was no stranger to unorthodox means of immediate, self-administered first-aid, but this…

This was out of left field entirely, even for someone who never had many options to choose from in the first place. Out of all the options the gambler  _ did _ have, he seemed the most estranged to any one involving romance or intimacy (Exhibit A: His ex-wife).

When he saw Rochelle and Coach helping Ellis to walk into the saferoom though, his adrenaline began to skyrocket. He stood up. “What the hell happened out there? S’the kid alright?”

“Smoker got him, took us a while to get to where we could get him free.” Coach explained. “Looks worse than it is, I think. The fall did the most to him. Here--Set him here, Ro.”

“Guys, m’fine. Jus’ some scuffmarks. Nothin’ really.” the hick said with a groan as he sat on a bench. "Just a little sore. No worries, guys. I'm still kickin'."

"Ellis, you fell five feet--at least. Not to mention you were choking for at least a whole minute before we offed the bitch." Coach stared at him. "It's okay to say it hurt, kid. Nobody's Superman here. No abs of steel."

"Speak for yourself." Nick murmured, wanting to lighten the mood just a hair. The three whipped their heads to look at him, and Ellis seemed to crack a sliver of a smile. "What?" the grifting conman said with a shrug. "Wouldn't want lies goin' around, right?"

Rochelle and Coach collectively rolled their eyes. "I think we should go out to find El some real first aid. Those bandages and ointment'll only last so long." Rochelle advised. "Probably will last the night at the very most. I say we head back out there."

Nick's brows rose a bit. "Really? You wanna go back out there after one of us--the most fit of us--nearly bit the bullet? Are you high?" he looked at her, wishing shortly after saying that that he was. Or at least drunk. 

"Well, Nick, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but there is still a chance of bullet-biting for him. Especially if we don't get what he needs."

Ellis interjected. "Uh, m'still alive guys. No need to talk about me like I'm not. And I feel fine. I can last the night, and you two can get an early start on finding stuff when there's more daylight t'burn. Nick can take care of me. Right?" he looked over at the man, eyes hopeful. "Or is that gonna damage your ego?"

The grifter gave a half-assed grunt, which seemed as close as he’d get to an agreement. Ellis turned to look at the other two survivors, satisfied. “See? All good. Let’s just all r’lax, kay’?”

Even after silence befell them, the atmosphere was still tense. Ro and Coach retired to their rooms upstairs while Ellis rested his head against the wall as he sat on the bench. “Don’t tell them this,” he disclosed to the cardshark, “but I feel like act’al horseshit. Never thought a few bruises could make me feel like such a baby.”

Nick ended up glancing over at Ellis, who was hissing a bit at his wounds. Deciding to join him, he looked him over a bit more. “Some of em’ do look kinda painful. You want me to take care of them now? I know we aren’t short on bandages after that stop we made to that hospital. Most I can do is use the rainwater we collected, clean everything and bandage you up.”

Even though it didn’t seem like much, the hick took it in stride and with a happy smile. “Sure. Thank ya kindly, Nick.”

With a small hum, the gambler walked to grab the first-aid bag, and the bucket of rainwater before trekking back to him. Sitting back down, he started to dig through the bag for a cloth to use to soak up the water and clean everything with. “Got any wounds under that dirty-ass shirt of yours?”

“Hey, this here shirt’s m’favorite...and I don’t think so. How’d you feel if I went talkin’ nasty about your suit?”

Nick merely laughed. “You wouldn’t. I’d drop ya before you’d get a word in edgewise.”

The country-boy’s face paled just a little as Nick wet the cloth and rang it out. “Really? You’d do that to me?”

“Sure would.” he glanced up at him with a sly grin. “Nobody talks shit on my three-grand suit.” as he started cleaning him up, he clarified, “But you aren’t Nobody, so I guess I could let you slide, kid.” 

Ellis smiled with a little sigh in relief, looking at the man as he worked. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me, Nick. You like me too much.”

A brow quirked on the conman’s face. “And how are you so sure of this?”

“Ain’t killed me yet, and it seems like I piss you off a bit.”

“Everybody does that, Ace.” Nick explained. “It isn’t like a talent of yours or anything. Why do you think I was so adamant to go off on my own at first?”

“Uhh…”

“Adamant means ‘fixed’ or ‘firm’. ‘Determined’.”

Ellis made an ‘O’ shape with his face after the clarification, thinking for a second. “Well maybe you just have a hard time trustin’ folks. That ain’t a bad thing either. Just means y’know your boundaries n’shit. Times like this, that c’n be a good thing. Don’t know who y’can trust anymore.” 

Nick couldn’t help but pause and take in what the hick had to say. It really was a good bit of insight, and coming from someone like him honestly made it more surprising to hear. The more he processed it, a smile actually began to cross his face. “Damn El...that was seriously some of the best shit I’ve heard out of you. Pretty dead-on.” 

“Damn right. I know a thing or two. Maybe I should be a poet or somethin’.” Ellis half-joked. “Be like Mark Choo-Choo Train or whatever the hell his name was.”

Nick audibly choked into a laugh. “Ellis--what the fuck--”

A tint of red dusted itself across the hick's cheeks as he quietly chuckled. "What? I fix cars, don't do no book learnin'. Never really tried to, at least."

"And you're the one saying you should write poetry. Mark Choo-Choo Train...Jesus, Ellis. " 

What followed was a moment of silence, but a welcomed one at that. The two seemed to bask in and enjoy each other's company. It seemed that for the first time in a while, the two men were shielded from whatever fresh hell existed beyond the saferoom door and found solace in each other. It wasn't something either would admit out loud, but it seemed like they both silently understood each other's feelings towards the moment at hand. 

Keeping a smile on his face, El looked at his scars. "Damn, guess I really did have a bit of a number done on me. Good thing I have Doctor Nick helpin' me out, huh?"

It was Nick's turn to dye his cheeks a shade of red. "Uh...Yeah...Sure…"

"How'd you get so good at this? You do better than most'a the doctors I go to. Well...I didn't, but I had to take my buddy Kieth there practic'ly every other week. Always gettin' himself into some kinda shitstorm; Broken arm, cracked rib, slipped disc--you name it, he's had it. Doctor's call'im the walkin' shitshow magnet." 

The grifter chuckled breathily, eyebrows raised. "Figured as much as you had to go and help him, you'd know everything. And I taught myself mostly. Kinda had to. Only thing I learned was a little something from mi Madre." 

Ellis whipped his head up to look at Nick, blue eyes dipped in curiosity. "Yeah? What was it? And...Uh...What's a Madre?"

"My mother. And...It's dumb. Used to do it with my ex-wife, and it'd make her feel better." 

Ellis went quiet, feeling how tender the atmosphere was at the mention of Nick's past partner. He wanted to know more, but was scared to poke the bear, metaphorically speaking. Taking notice, Nick spoke up to continue. “You can ask, kid. I brought it up, you won’t piss me off or anything.” he assured, ringing out the wash cloth again.

“I don’t really have any questions bout’ her, just wonderin’ what you learned from your ma. I know you said you didn’t exactly have parents of the year or nothin’, so I was just curious.”

“It’s ironic, honestly. Coming from her, doing it to my ex.” The cardshark started. “She--my mom--always told me that love was the best cure for any kind of pain, physical or not. When I was really little and got a scratch or something, she’d clean it and then…” he looked down. “She’d kiss the wound to seal it with love so it would heal faster--or so she thought.” Nick’s face was just as solemn as his voice, the irony of everything was just as painful as he’d imagined Ellis’ scrapes and scars to be. Maybe more. 

Ellis let a beat of respectful silence pass before he spoke with a soft tone. “That’s real sweet, Nick. I’m sorry about everything. Guess everyone could use a little more love nowadays. S'a real sweet idea though, lettin' love heal everythin'." 

"Do...You want me to try it?" 

Such a question caused the both of them to collectively freeze and stare at each other. Quite honestly, Nick really didn't realize what he'd said until it left his lips. If they weren't blushing now, oh boy…

"I...Uh…" Ellis stumbled, trying to put words together, however they seemed to be fitting like mismatched puzzle pieces. "You--You can, I guess. I mean, I don't mind none."

"You can just say yes or no, but alright." Nick chuckled, holding the Band-Aids in his hand. 

He started with the hick's right arm, and held it firmly in his hand as he pecked a small scar just above his wrist. Nick's lips felt odd, in a good way. They were calloused and faintly chapped, but had a soft and tenderness to them--almost like he really cared about not messing this up. The feeling of El's supple and tanned skin pressed against his lips was enough to make the conman jolt a bit, just as the feeling of Nick's lips made the country boy do the same. 

After each kiss, a small bandage was placed over each scrape, scar, and scratch, almost like the love was an ointment being sealed in to work his magic. If you could call it love, even. 

Hell, maybe you could. Who knows? 

Looking over his handiwork, Nick couldn't help but smile. "Eh, not too bad if I say so myself. Guess Doctor Nick still has a pretty good handle on some of this, huh? What do you think, overalls? You gonna last the night?"

Nothing. Silence. The poor kid was too flustered to get a syllable out.

"Uh, Ellis? El? Hayseed?"

After a minute of continuous quiet, Nick hatched an idea. "Oh, shit. Missed a spot." 

He leaned up and kissed the younger's cheek, the light stubble on his face grazing his already rough-textured lips. "There. All patched up."

"What about the bandage?" Ellis asked, finally snapping out of it (however his blush couldn't exactly be spoken for quite yet).

"I think you'll be fine, fireball. Consider yourself all healed--thanks to good ol' Doctor Nick." with a laugh, Nick laughed with a triumphant look on his face. Maybe it was from the work he'd done to help his companion. Maybe it was from just how easily he could render such a chatterbox like Ellis completely speechless (hell, maybe this would be something for the gambler to remember for when the mechanic's stories went off the wire. Maybe).

And while Ellis wouldn't confess it aloud, he still held the belief that Nick was a better doctor than most with a degree. Maybe this little scheme seemed to solidify that. 

Maybe. 

  
  



	5. Two Sides, Same Coin (that just so happens to be hopelessly in love)

It was a constant routine at this point.

“Shut up, Nick.”

“God damn it, Nick, take it easy.”

“Get your ass moving, Nick.”

_“Mister, I don’t think I like your attitude…”_

It was always ‘Nick, this’ and ‘Nick, that.’ The only things that seemed to stay the same were the fact that A) he was always getting scolded, and B) he didn’t seem to care. It was like he’d become numb to any and all reactions of his nihilistic, asshole approach to any and everything.

And it was only until that dumb hick seemed to take a shine to the con-artist that things seemed to change. 

“I hate you, Ellis!” _Yeah, right._

“Well, I still like you, Nick.”

To be fair, Nick had to give the younger male credit. He might have not been exactly blessed with an educated English vernacular, but the kid was damn good at saying everything on his mind and exactly in the way that he wanted to say it. As someone who used words like weapons to get whatever he wanted or needed to get by, Nick had to admit he was impressed. He never really realized how little a person had to say for something to mean so much. The idea made him smile (only a bit, but with lips as thin as his it looked like a full-blown grin) and chuckle, thinking of it like a magic trick or even a superpower. 

_I mean with rock-hard abs like those...Might as well call him Superman._

Wait, what? 

Big surprise, Nick caught feelings for the little hayseed. Being cooped up with the same three people for months on end didn’t give him a whole plethora of options. Sure, there was Ro, but it seemed that she had eyes for another asshole in a greasy vest. You know how it goes: Beggars, choosers, yadda, yadda, yadda. 

It was a good thing Nick had a well-practiced poker face, because damn did Ellis make it hard for him to contain himself. Little giggles and big bouts of laughter here and there, his ‘annoying’ stories about some other redneck--Kenny or something like that. He’d learn his name eventually, right? Like when he’d get jealous or something? Yeah, sure. Definitely then. On top of everything, Ellis just looked gorgeous. Even amidst the infected blood, guts, and whatever else seemed to attach themselves to the group, Ellis looked like a knight in shining armor. 

And don’t even get Nick started on when he saw the mechanic shirtless or with his hat off. 

Nick could only contain himself for so long. And he had a reputation to protect. Here’s to hoping he’s just as fast on his feet as he is with his tongue. 

Even bigger surprise, Ellis caught on and now here we are: with a charlatan and a himbo having heart-eyes for each other. Well, not all the time. Only when other eyes weren’t on them. 

It was something that that boisterous little fireball had to learn, that Nick was never public when it came to love or affection. He’d never really been that way to begin with. He’s private with literally every other aspect of his life, so who’s to say there wouldn’t have been an exception when it came to romantic endeavors? 

But when the gambler and the hick were alone, oh boy. Nick was a whole other man. 

Ellis got his first taste of what Nick was like when he was in a romantic mood when they were up on watch just outside of New Orleans. 

The two sat in a watchtower outside of the safe room, looking up at the stars as they watched for any semblance of a threat. The moon cast a heavenly glow on them, and Nick melted when he saw the light bless the younger man’s face in something almost ethereal. 

He scooted closer, pulling Ellis’ hand into his own and gained a bit of attention from the southerner. Granted, it was a bit of shock, but it was attention nonetheless.

“Uh, Nick? You okay? You’ve been actin’ real funny since we got up’ere.”

Nick didn’t answer for a while, just letting his eyes bounce between the night sky and the man beside him. 

“I wanted a night like this for a while. Just the two of us.” the former felon squeezed Ellis’ hand. “I wanted a night to show you what I really think about you, El.” his voice was low, gentle, and just a bit gruff.

The mechanic’s head turned, catching Nick’s emerald eyes in his own pale baby blues. “What do y’mean? I know how you feel.”

A chuckle made its way out of the cardshark’s mouth. “Oh yeah? How’s that, kiddo?”

“You’re like one of them kids, like in high school or some shit. They act like an asshole all the time, and when they like somebody, shit goes up like a million percent. But I don’t mind, I know you like me n’all.” A smile blessed Ellis’ lips, as well as Nick’s eyes. 

“You may have that right, but Ellis, I don’t just like you.”

A calloused hand reached up to catch the southern boy’s cheek, and their eyes were magnetized to each other’s. Before either of them knew it, Nick was leaning in and caught El’s lips in a kiss. It was lucky that the fireworks that basked in their presence was metaphorical, as they could’ve been in some major trouble otherwise. 

“I’m in love with you, fireball.” Nick whispered as they pulled away to rest their foreheads against one another’s. “I’m head over heels for every little thing about you.”

The southerner’s cheeks turned to cherries in a matter of seconds, and a nervous (or embarrassed, depending on how you look at it) chuckle escaped him. “Yeah, like what?”

“Well, for starters…” a hand lifted up to pull off Ellis’ hat and tangle itself in his hair. “These. I adore your little curls. They’re so soft, and get so messy when you sleep, it’s adorable. They’re shiny and golden, like sunshine. The most perfect sunshine out there.”

A quiet, airy giggle left the hick’s lips as he leaned into Nick’s hand as he let him continue. Despite his warm, red cheeks, the kid was beaming with love and feeling like a prince with the way the conman was treating him. 

“Your laugh too. It’s like music to my ears. And that soft, rough voice you have when you first wake up drives me crazy. It’s, well, the best part of waking up.”

“Really? A coffee commercial line? Real smooth, Romeo.” Ellis rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem to mind the shameless little joke. In fact, he found it a little charming.

“I can always stop--”

“No, no, no. Not necessary. Please, continue.” The younger grinned, the sudden attention and affection making his whole body feel warm and fuzzy. It was almost ironic how Nick had the same effect on him as alcohol. 

The gambler’s thumb rubbed along El’s cheek. “You have chipmunk cheeks kiddo, and...Jesus they’re just the cutest. They balance out with that handsome jawline of yours, too. Not to mention this adorable little button nose you have.” a light peck was placed on the Georgian’s nose, making him giggle with childish innocence. 

Nick’s thumb trailed down to brush across Ellis’ bottom lip. “Don’t even get me started on how good of a kisser you are. And the way you talk, you never cease to amaze me with your stories or how you negotiate, fireball.” 

Getting lost in the sea of compliments, Ellis couldn’t help but to speak up. “What about my eyes? You mentioned pretty much everythin’ else bout’ m’face.”

Nick’s smile seemed to brighten, like he was waiting to be asked about the boy’s pale blue orbs. “Never thought you’d ask. They’re my favorite thing about you, and the first thing I noticed about you, too. I love your eyes, and I almost melt every time you look at me.” he laughed. “They’re like little oceans, but they aren’t scary or dark like real oceans. They’re safe, comforting. If I could just get lost in them for a while, I wouldn’t have a care in the world. I’d feel like I was walking on air. When I look at you, I know nothing could happen to me--Like I’m made of titanium or something.”

Ellis just couldn’t take it anymore, feeling like he was getting a toothache from all the sweetness Nick just laid out for him. He gripped his suit jacket and kissed him deeply again. His hands roamed up to cup and brush along the light stubble on his cheeks. Upon touching it, he made a mental note to convince Nick to keep the facial hair.

They stayed like that for a while, simply basking in the bliss of each other’s presence. 

It could only last so long though, as Coach and Rochelle walked out of the safe room for their turn on watch. 

“As much as I’d love to see how much more of a Casanova you can be,” Ellis whispered with a bright grin on his face, “We should hop outta here and get some shut-eye.” with a peck of his lips, the country boy started down the ladder and walked towards their place of refuge.

Nick must’ve zoned out, as when he came to, Rochelle was already up in the watchtower giving him an odd stare. “You in there, Nick? Hello…?”

The ex-con’s defensive grimace seemed to make a hasty return, as he snatched up Ellis’ hat and scurried down the ladder. 

Passing by Coach, a few murmurs of swears seemed to work themselves out of Nick’s system as he made his way to the safe room. He was back to normal...for the most part.

Old habits die hard, don’t they? 

  
  
  



	6. Once Bitten, Twice Shy (do you recognize me?)

“Son of a--!”

It was the third time that day that the former gambler had been doused with a slimy, green substance with...God knows how many other substances were mixed in (or even what they were). It wasn’t helping that the liquid (if you could even call it that. Slime maybe?) was making him colder as he and his entourage fought in the frigid, snowy weather. To be fair, at least it didn’t burn or sting like one other select bodily fluid that developed in this hellfire of a nightmare. 

Between intermittent slashes, stabs, shots, and shoves, Ellis managed to comment, “Damn, Nicky. All that green and red makes ya look like Christmas! Tis’ the season, y’know!!”

Such a response was met with Nick’s routine growl, a “Shut up, Ellis!” being thrown in for flavor. Despite the bark and growl, the young southern boy only laughed as he took a few common infected out near Rochelle. 

“We have got to get out of this cold,” she breathed, teeth chattering. The air from her lungs wisping out of her mouth and flowing in front of her for a split second like a faint mist. “Find somewhere, someplace to go and warm up.”

Nick snorted, decapitating a spastic zombie with ease by this point. “Oh really, and how do you suggest we do that, cupcake? Turn on the thermostat and get nice and toasty while swapping Christmas stories? Hate to ruin your mood babes, but it isn’t happening.”

“Maybe we can build a fire in it?” Ellis suggested, to which Nick snarked, “Ellis, remind me again what most houses here are made out of?”

“Well shit, wood, Nick.”

“Uh huh, and what burns to keep a fire going?”

It became clear to Ellis, and he simply went silent. “What I thought,” Nick sighed, watching his own breath flow and dissipate before his eyes. “I can’t disagree with Ro though, I’m freezing.”

“There’s a little cottage over there, something small.” Coach chimed in. “Might be a good idea not to take anything bigger. Easier to keep heat in. C’mon y’all let’s get a move on.”

  
  


The first thing any of them did once they got in the house was make a beeline for the makeshift fireplace near the back wall of the small home. Breaking wooden chairs, they piled all the wood up before igniting them with Nick’s lighter (which to everyone’s chagrin and dismay, they were happy the man refused to give it up--even after he’d had his last cigarette a few days ago and knew he likely wouldn’t find more). The four of them all huddled together around the blossoming flames and began to pick at their scarce food rations. 

As Nick began to eat, he noticed something in the parlor-esque room across the way. Such a thing, whatever it was, seemed to make him perk up a bit. He inattentively nibbled on his can of lukewarm mandarin oranges, staring at the object in the room. 

Of course, like the happiness radar he was, Ellis noticed and lit up. “What’s gotcha smilin,’ Nick? Must be something good if it’s makin’ your lips curve up’ards for once. Cigarettes?”

The former gambler didn’t answer him, too out of it to even register another person was talking. Though, Ellis’s words always seem to flow about as a sort of background noise to him, anyway. 

“Nick, you in there, boy?” Coach asked, his booming voice and snapping fingers were just barely enough to snap the man out of his daze; so, he pressed a bit harder and lightly shoved the northerner. “Nicky. Nicolas!”

Jolting, Nick whipped his head around and instinctively reached for his magnum. “Wha--!”

The others held their hands up, quickly talking over one another in order to conciliate the hostile gambler. 

It was Ellis' voice that broke through first. "Hey, hey, hey. No need to get testy now! We were just tryin' to snap you outta your little haze there. You okay?"

It took a moment for him to register the hick's words, but he acquiesced and holstered his gun. "Fine, overalls. M'fine."

The room suddenly went quiet, save for the gentle but constant wind and dulled, almost bored groans of the bumbling infected outside. 

It took minutes and moments before anyone cut through the silence. With a clearing of her throat, Rochelle chimed in and added, "It's late...So, I think I'm going to steal a bedroom and pass out."

Before anyone could interject or add anything, she was already up and closing a door to one of the house's bedrooms. Coach and the group's youngest member weren't too far behind, leaving Nick all alone in the living room. 

His eyes began to wander again, dancing and traipsing about every hanging picture, every dusty book and rusting statue, and every other seemingly sentimental item that littered the room's walls and untouched shelves. 

Finally, his eyes found it again. The one thing that threw him into a daze in the first place. His eyes found it, and his feet were carrying him to its location. 

A piano, just as dusty and aged as everything else in the small, cottage-like home, stood in the middle of an offhand room. It seemed like it had gone touch-starved for weeks, maybe months; like it was waiting for Nick’s calloused hands and his only. Getting close enough, his fingertips lightly brushed along the smooth keys. 

Eventually, he pressed down on a key to make the piano sing. A soft humming sound broke the quiet air into pieces, however it did not prove to be a disturbance. 

He looked out at the suddenly snowy landscape, then back to the piano. Throwing caution to the wind and snow, he began to play--a song in mind. A surprise to himself, a soft, singing melody began to flow from his mouth and vocal chords.

_Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,_

_But the very next day, you gave it away._

_This year, to save me from tears,_

_I’ll give it to someone special._

Singing the chorus again, Nick noticeably relaxed and felt his posture slip a bit as he tickled the ivories. It looked to be from memory, the order in which the keys were played to accompany his vocals (which were velvety and sultry, with the bite and sting of whiskey. The former grifter played like no one was watching, continuing the lyrics.

_Once bitten, and twice shy,_

_I keep my distance, but you still catch my eye._

_Tell me, baby, do you recognize me?_

_Well, it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me…_

As he reprised the chorus once again, Nick’s foot was bobbing up and down to the rhythm he had rolling in his head. He was swaying as his fingers danced along the black and white keys. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of soft baby blues were on him, glued by shock and awe. 

Sighing with the realization he’d forgotten an ammo clip from his rifle, Ellis slugged out to retrieve it. However when he heard the performance in the room, he froze in his tracks just outside his door. His mouth opened just slightly, searching for the words that he’d be too nervous to say (not to mention words he’d be too scared to say, knowing if he did say anything, the sight would be over just as quickly as it arrived). 

Nicolas had emotion, power in his voice. It was real, raw, and...somber in a way. He’d clearly played this before, as judged by the way his hands so effortlessly glided across the keys without a second thought. His brows quirked and relaxed, his head tilted and shook as if he were really talking to someone he knew. Someone he knew and lost his heart to. 

_"Merry Christmas," I wrapped it up and sent it_

_With a note saying "I love you,” I meant it._

_Now I know what a fool I've been,_

_But if you kissed me now, I know you'd fool me again._

Ellis stared as if he was witnessing a meteor shower or a shooting star, wanting to take in the moment as much as possible. Remembering his task at hand, he attempted to sneak forward to retrieve the ammo clip. With each note the gambler sang, the southern boy’s heart became incredibly skilled at gymnastics. 

Though, as much as he tried, the fruits of his sneaky labor proved nonexistent. 

_A crowded room, friends with tired eyes,_

_I'm hiding from you and your soul of ice._

_My God, I thought you were someone to rely on._

_Me? I guess I was a shoulder to--_

Nick stiffened and froze, his heart sinking as his eyes landed on Ellis. “H...How long have you been there?”

The young mechanic wasn’t quick to answer, littering stutters and sorries everywhere. Finally, he settled on, “Well, shit, not long enough I guess. I had no idea you could play like that.”

Slowly, Nick’s hands slid off the piano and underneath it as if he wanted to hide something. _‘Too late,’_ he thought to himself. _‘Secret’s out, or whatever the hell this was.’_

Face reddening, he forced a quick smile. “Yeah, well, I’d like to keep it that way. What do you want, Ellis?” 

Wordlessly, he held up the ammo clip and tried to let it speak for himself. Feeling guilty, he fessed up, “Left this out here...Sorry. Um, goodnight, I guess.” As he finished, he spun around and began to walk away. 

“...Was I any good?” the cardshark stopped him. 

“What?” Ellis slowly turned around and whispered, to which Nick started to smile again. 

“Well, you were spying on me long enough, m’sure you could give me a little feedback.”

The younger man took the metaphorical foot in the door that his elder cohort made for him, mirroring his sheepish (but surprisingly very real) smile. “Well yeah, Nick. No doubt about it. No idea you could sing like that. It was...wow.”

Nick bounced with a chuckle. “Damn, kiddo. Who knew this was all it took to make you speechless?”

“Oh hush,” Ellis started with a faint laugh and eyeroll. “jus’ take the compliment, will ya?”

The other said nothing, only exchanging soft smiles and kind eyes. 

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you be. Seemed like you were enjoying yourself. Night, Nick.” Ellis murmured, looking down at the ammo in his hand before walking back to his room (much slower and more eased than before).

“Merry Christmas, kiddo.” Nick whispered (having the mindset that he hadn’t been heard), looking back down at the milky white and obsidian black keys above his hands as he decided to play again. 

Ellis paused for a second, the tanned young man brightening up as the other’s words soaked into his ears. To the air, he answered, “Merry Christmas, Nicky.” before walking to his room and closing the door. Hearing the music, he decided to rob the pillows and blanket from the bed in the room and sleep near the door in order to hear Nick’s performance resume. 

For the first time since he was a little boy, Ellis felt like he’d been sung to sleep that night. He didn’t care how high the pep in his step rose him tomorrow or who noticed his brighter, more blossoming smile. To him, Christmas didn’t seem like that much of a bust this year. The only thing that seemed to be off was the fact that his heart was still trying to perfect a backflip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! More updates soon once school takes a break on the vendetta against me. Happy holidays everyone, and have a lovely new year! :)


End file.
